


Christmas Wishes

by merentha13



Category: The Professionals
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-20
Updated: 2012-12-20
Packaged: 2017-11-21 15:36:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/599380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merentha13/pseuds/merentha13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yes, Raymond Doyle, there is a Santa Clause (or Father Christmas)...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Christmas Wishes

(cover-art by the fabulously talented "snailbones"! Thanks, luv!)

[](http://merentha13.livejournal.com/pics/catalog/295/46407)   


“Damn Cowley. Just like him, eh, Bodie? Calling us in on Christmas Eve – first Christmas we’ve had off in years. Had plans, I did. And they didn’t include searching through a dingy flat looking for nutters and then getting blown up! Yeah, ok, I’ll stop whinging. It’s just that I was going to give you a real Christmas – dinner with all the trimmings – and yes, before you ask, a real Christmas pudding with rum sauce. Aw, never mind, mate. It’ll keep. Provided they find us – and where the hell are Anson and McCabe? I called it in! They should’ve been right behind us. 

“Should’ve been easy. There were only two of the soddin’ villains. You chased the one in here and I went round the back. I let Control know where we were. Then I heard the gunshot. Wasn’t your gun. I was careless, mate. Barrelled in through the back door, set off the blast and found myself buried under two floors. Heard the two thugs runnin’ out; laughing they were. I couldn’t move, me leg’s pinned under a beam. Heard you moving about. Was never as relieved as when you lay down next to me, tellin’ me I was safe. _I_ was safe – as if _you_ were never in danger. Berk! I must’ve blacked out for a while. Sorry. I’m back now. 

“You look rough mate. Bit bloody around the edges. Me? Oh, ‘m fine. Leg’s broken, I think, so I’m going to need you to help get me out of here. Gonna need some help digging out from under all this debris. But not yet. You rest a bit, yeah? 

“Shame about this place. Might’ve been too quick to call it dingy. Looks like someone had it all set for Christmas. Ruined now. There’s tinsel all over, broken ornaments scattered about, angel on the floor instead of on top of the tree, and a few presents seem to have made it. Don’t see any stockings though. Ah ha! Even a sprig of mistletoe caught up in your jacket. Here – don’t fret, I’ll get it. Save it for later, yeah? When we’re a bit more comfortable and can put it to better use. One of the better parts of the holiday, mistletoe is...

“‘ang on for me ok sunshine – think I’m gonna conk out again. Pain’s getting...

[](http://merentha13.livejournal.com/pics/catalog/295/47221)

“Sorry, didn’t mean to drift off and leave you on your own. Feeling a bit knackered myself and its getting cold in here, Bodie. And where did all the snow come from? Bomb must’ve opened a hole in the roof. You’re lookin’ a bit festive, mate – snow in your hair. Here, let’s brush that off, shall we? Let’s move in a bit closer too- we’ll both be warmer if we share a bit of heat, yeah? You’re like a bloody hot-water bottle, you are. Always hot. Comes in handy from time to time. Oi, see what I said there – come in hand! – Sorry, sorry, sunshine. Not funny, I know. Can’t seem to think straight – thoughts wandering all over. Here, rest your head on me shoulder and I’ll just wrap my arm around here – ahh – that’s better. Warmer? Good.

“Hear the bells? St. Pauls, that is. My mum brought me there once, year before she died. I was nine. Happiest Christmas I’ve ever had. She was beautiful, all dressed up in her finest. You’d’ve laughed at the little scruff hiding behind her skirts – she even made me wear one of me dad’s old ties. Hated it as much then as I do now – maybe more. She’d saved for months to pay for our train tickets to London. She took me to Harrods and we spent hours just lookin’ in the windows. Never seen anything like it. The fairy lights and decorations and all the toys! We had some chocolate biscuits and some hot cocoa and pulled a few crackers she’d hidden in her handbag. Don’t know where she got them. They weren’t as pretty as the ones in Harrods’ window, but I didn’t care. Couldn’t stop smilin’ – either one of us. Christ, she was beautiful, Bodie. I wish you could’ve known her. I think she would have liked you. Then we went to St. Paul’s. She said it was something she had to share, something I should see and remember. I think she knew – ah well, never mind that. Bloody eyes are burnin’ - must be the dust from the blast. I can still see the church all decked out for the holiday, can hear the choir singin’ hymns, can see me mum’s eyes shining and hear her laugh – she didn’t laugh much - and the bells - means its midnight – means - Happy Christmas, Bodie.

“You asked me back in the car, what I wanted from Father Christmas. Was all a joke then, wasn’t it? Not so funny now. If there is a Father Christmas, I’d ask – well, really, I just want you to wake up, mate. Please. That bump on the head shouldn’t be enough to keep you down. Bodie? C’mon mate - don’t want to be alone. At Christmas – or ever again.

“Hold still, mate. You’re getting restless, hurts my leg. Gotta-" 

“Shut. Up. Doyle.”

“Bodie! You’re awake?”

“Course I’m awake – how could anyone sleep through all your nattering?”

“Sorry. Was worried -”

“I know. Ah, don’t pout. Long face like that – Father Christmas will pass you by.”

“Already got what I wished for, didn’t I?”

“Ah, Raymond. None of that; don’t have my handkerchief handy, do I?”

“Pillock. You all right?”

“Head hurts, but I don’t think I’m concussed. How about you?”

“Leg’s pinned down, maybe broken. I really can’t feel it.”

“Let me see if I can free you. We need to get somewhere warm.”

“I’ve tried, Bodie. Probably best to leave it. Help should be on the way. Anson and McCabe were right behind us – Ahh, fuck, Bodie – don’t!”

“Ok, ok. Steady, Ray. We’ll wait a bit. But if it gets much colder, we’re going to be in trouble.”

“You could go for help.”

“And leave you here on your own? No way. I’ll give the lads a little more time to find us. If we leave here, we leave together.”

“Nothin’ but a big softie, you are.”

“Don’t disparage my character, Raymond. Remember it _is_ Christmas. Little boys are supposed to be on their best behaviour. That means being nice to their mates.”

“I am nice, Bodie. Shared my best Christmas with you. We’ve got time, let’s hear about yours.”

“Trust me, Ray, yours was better.”

“Humph. Don’t tell me, then.”

“Stubborn sod, aren’t you? You’re shiverin’ mate. Let me turn a bit, here; rest your head on my shoulder. I’ll put my jacket-"

“Stop arsing about, Bodie. Let’s hear it!”

“All right, all right, you’re a bloody–minded git, aren’t you, Doyle? Well, Christmas at my home was what you saw in Harrods’ windows, mate. Big fancy trees, pretty packages, fairy lights and holly wreaths, nuts and dates and crisps and chocolates round the house, the Queen’s Speech - all the trappings – none of the feeling. Empty promises. I’d’ve traded it all for a few hours like you had with your mum.”

“I thought that might be the way of it. That’s why I wanted – Bodie, did you hear that? The roof-”

“Probably just old Father Christmas and his sleigh, yeah?”

“Don’t make jokes, Bodie. I think the rest of the roof is going to come down on us. You best find help.”

“Told you before, Ray, not leavin’ without you.”

“Bodie, I’m pinned under all this. No point in both of us-”

“Doyle! I’m not leavin’ you here. Get that through your woolly head. Now, take a deep breath, sunshine. I’m going to try to move this beam off your legs. What the hell? Shit, the roof is comin’ down. I’m sorry, Ray, this is gonna hurt like hell, but we have to get out of here.”

“Bodie...”

“On three, mate. One – two-” 

“Christ, Bodie!”

[](http://merentha13.livejournal.com/pics/catalog/295/47103)

“Passed out again, did you? Well, that’ll make things easier. Here we go. Fuck, it’s no good, Ray. I can’t move this on my own. I hear - is that your R/T? Buried underneath you? Ha, old son, salvation waits. This is 3.7. Can anyone hear me?”

“Bodie, where the bloody hell are you? Is Doyle with you?”

“Language, Anson. It is Christmas.”

“Bodie, where-”

“We’re in the warehouse, near the back. Doyle’s injured. I need help to get him out. The roof is starting to come down – those reindeer are a bit heavy this year.”

“Be right with you, mate. Ambulance is on its way – we called when we heard the explosion and lost contact with you.”

“Hurry it up. We’re freezin’ in here.”

“Running all the way, Bodie.”

[](http://merentha13.livejournal.com/pics/catalog/295/47537)

“C’mon, Raymond. Wake up. Visiting hours are almost over and the good sister is already giving me the eye. Hospital rules and all, she says.” 

“Bloody irritatin’, that is.”

“What?”

“Whatever you keep sticking in me lug-hole.”

“Just trying to wake Sleeping Beauty with a sprig of the season.”

“Eh?”

“Something you had in your hand when we finally got you out of that warehouse. You wouldn’t let it go. Mistletoe.”

“Know a better use for that than cleanin’ me ears.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, c’mere and I’ll show you.” 

“Hmm, nice, but naughty, Raymond. Father Christmas won’t be pleased.”

“Told you before, already got what I want. Now get back here with that!”

[](http://merentha13.livejournal.com/pics/catalog/295/47634) [](http://merentha13.livejournal.com/pics/catalog/295/48385)

And here's a close up of "snailbones" artwork:

**Author's Note:**

> Written for "Discovered in a Christmas Cracker" at Discovered in a Live Journal.  
> Thanks to anna060957, moonlightmead and maddalia for all their help and input!  
> Thanks to snailbones for the beautiful artwork.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * A [Restricted Work] by [Snailbones (spottydog)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spottydog/pseuds/Snailbones) Log in to view. 




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